There was plenty of action at the Spiker Family Reunion this year that started when the crowd began to gather at the farm on Saturday.  Some parked their motor homes on the lawn, some piled their gear in the farmhouse bedrooms for an overnight stay and others drove in just for the evening.  Melanie Fouse attended the event and shared the following story.

 

     "The power went out early in the evening and Mike tried everything to get it back on but finally ended up calling the power company. They said they'd be out later that evening. They had to come all the way from Clarksburg. Mike blamed it on all the women being there. Said the men (had) come out (in the past to) hunt, fish, etc., and the power never went out.

 

    "Everyone had to make do with the outhouse or use the old hand pump in the back room to refill the tank on the toilet as the water goes off when the electric goes off. 

 

     "As the evening grew darker, everyone gathered around the bonfire and roasted marshmallows and made s'mores. There was singing and conversation and then the power company man arrived and everyone cheered! The worker looked at the transformer and said he'd been doing this job for more than 20 years and he'd never seen one that old but he thought there was a switch on it he could flip. Turned out he was right and right away the lights in the house came on and all the women cheered again!  Seems the transformer had probably been there since they first brought electricity to the farm."

 

     Preparations for the main event began early the next morning.  The grill was prepared, chickens were cleaned and tables were lined up on the lawn.  Volunteers to assist in various planned events were recruited from their cars as they pulled up to the house. 

 

     While many of us rummaged through hundreds of old family photos pressed into albums, tossed into boxes and hung on the wall, John and his crew manned the grill.  As I watched them meticulously clean each chicken, John informed me that such care was due to my mother's instructions.  She and my father, Bob (aka, "Chicken Bob",) have always been considered the family's Charcoaled Chicken experts.  One of mother's requirements was that each chicken be carefully inspected and thoroughly cleaned of all feathers, hairs and leftover "icky stuff" often missed by the poultry providers. 

 

     Having created his own version of Daddy's personally designed grill (one that was modified to cook up to 200 chicken halves,) "Chicken John" has taken over the time-honored tradition.  Each year John stops by Mother's house to pick up a sprayer of "goopy" (the secret marinade that makes the chicken taste soooo good; click here for her recipe) and treats us to such tasty grilled chicken that I'm sure Daddy would be proud.